A Catch Up With Auntie Gladys

The wind can roar up the valley from the West with terrific force.Our little group of five houses are located at perhaps the lowest and most sheltered part of Trelawnyd whereas the dwellings up High Street and beyond face the full force of the elements.
This morning the only person out in the gales was Auntie Glad. I caught her battling her way to church and managed to stop her along London Road to remind her that the service was in Dyserth today. She was annoyed that she had forgotten.
I have not seen Gladys for several weeks, so after taking the dogs home I called around with a few mince pies wrapped in foil and she reminded me as soon as I arrived that I was late booking a Flower Show Committee meeting . " We need to crack on" she chided me gently.

We  can all learn a great deal from people like Gladys. She is a woman who takes joy from simple things. The table around which we sat was spotlessly clean as was every small red tile on the kitchen floor. A pork chop , roast potatos and veg smelled lovely from the aga's warming oven and although she probably couldn't see them clearly, a small bunch of flowers sat cheerfully on the windowsill.
It is a kitchen I remember from my early childhood. It is a grandmother's kitchen.

We chatted for a while.
We booked the committee meeting and she told me of her forthcoming holiday to Llandudno for a five day " turkey and tinsel " break.
She complemented The Prof on his powerful readings in Church and she told me about her grandson's new home " somewhere near London" but most of the conversation was centred about our news and our lives.
It's that "interested"  nature that keeps her so vital.

She posed for an official Flower Show Committee photo which will take centre place in the publicity posters of Next Year's Show whilst telling me of some friend's invitation to have her visit over Christmas.
" They insisted that I go" she laughed, " They really want me to be there" and as she smiled and clapped her hands at the prospect, I didn't doubt that fact for an instant.

The wind up the willows

The Atlantic storm " Fanny" or whatever is her chosen name THIS week had hit our part of the world with force overnight with  60 mile an hour winds. The Prof is working in his office and I am hiding away in bed with William ( his treat as he has been " babysitting " Mary all night in the kitchen.)
The wind is whooshing through the cottage with a vengeance as Scary Mary, in a fit of wanton destruction , has demolished the friggin cat flap.
The place is like a friggin wind tunnel what with these ice cold Westerlies shooting through our passages
I'll buy and fit a new cat flap tomorrow....I cannot face another shop today. On night shift.

Hell

I'm exhausted.
Christmas Shopping with the Prof!
He loves it.
I hate it.
Chester was a nightmare of seasonal plastic bags, tired middle aged men standing outside clothes shops and couples arguing " well I think your mother would love it!" at the nightie counter in Marks.
The children singing carols right next door to the Salvation Band was all a bit much
" Is it December yet? " I shouted, but my cries were drowned out by hundreds of tired feet on cobblestones.
Thank god we went to Waitrose afterwards.......some semblance of order and sanity and not a commoner in sight

Adele

I'm loving Adele

She's 27

Dresses like my mum did in the 70s 

And is as nice as pie

Fanny Washing

Fanny pristine and gleaming

I understand that I make Trelawnyd sound a little more exciting than it is, what with escaping geese and colourful characters at every turn. The truth is, that like every community on this black Friday, Trelawnyd plods on at it's very own pace.
This morning was spent cleaning out the duck house, puppy lead training, housework and "Fanny" washing.
I was just hoovering Fanny's back seats when a spontaneous round of applause broke out by some neighbours out for a walk. The sight of me actually caring for a car , let alone polishing it within an inch of it's life is still somewhat a rare event here . Everyone I see in the village has commented just how neat Fanny is ......but I am sure most miss the petrie dish that was the old Berlingo.

This  afternoon I have sorted a load of washing out ( how exciting), bleached the bathroom and  made deep mince pies with some donated mincemeat ( thanks Rosemary) whilst listening to classic FM
It has been a relaxing afternoon.

With the cottage peacefully quiet.
The only thing to be heard over the sound of Paganini was the good natured bickering between Mary and Winnie as they fought for possession of an old plastic hairbrush.

This went on for well over an hour

Sob Feast

The prof is away

I have just watched The Colour Purple again covered in dogs

I cried like a baby at this bit

Camilla Parker Bowles Takes To The Skies.

That's two and a half hours I won't ever get back.

Foolishly, I let Mary have a gallop around the field this afternoon.
Goo-goo eyed she chased the sheep, (undaunted by their brief show of horn and stamping feet ) and like a lunatic rounded up the remaining hens and boxed them into a coop before scattering them again  to the four winds.
She was impossible to catch.
I almost grabbed her several times, but like most puppies, she sensed the chase to be a game and bounced under the gate into the lower field where the geese had been hiding.
The domestic geese, Russell, Jo and Kate all stood their ground and hissed and honked their displeasure as Mary galloped around them , only Camilla panicked and in a fit of hysteria took off from the field.
Now Camilla, is essentially a wild Canada goose so should,on paper , retain her ability to fly, but since I raised her, she has more or less followed her adopted flock's sedentary grassed based existence.  In four years she has perhaps glided a mere 100 feet, and on two occasions has crash landed  into the fields next door on windy days.
Today, Camilla took off like a jet fighter. She circled the field in an untidy loop at a height of perhaps a hundred and fifty feet, then, buffeted by a gust of wind  she soared away over the Church and out of sight past the Rectory.
" Shiiiiiitttttttttttt!"
I managed to grab Mary and locked her inside a hen house before galloping like a loon through the Churchyard in pursuit but Camilla was no where to be seen.
I searched the livery stable fields, Pippa's field where the alpacas eyed me nervously , The Rectory gardens and the village green beyond, but there was no sign.
I even raised a few eyebrows down nearby Well Street by calling " CAMILLA!" down alleyways and driveways, but that part of the village was deserted too.
The lady from Abbott House looked particularly surprised when I told her that I was looking for a black and white goose called Camilla Parker Bowles.....like you do.
Systematically, I extended the search.
I checked behind the pub and the chapel and behind the cottages on London Road and still there was no sign, so I went up Byron Street and knocked on a few doors.
An  old chap who was washing his car told me that he had seen a " low flying goose" heading East
" she was honking like a train" he said.
I was onto something
Now on the far east part of Trelawnyd is an upmarket housing estate of say ten houses and beyond that are Basil the farmer's sheep fields. So I took a chance and climbed over a few fences and nearly two hours after the whole bloody mess started, I found Camilla sitting open beaked where she had crash landed in the centre of a flock of ewes.

Bruised and battered but ok, Camilla returning home

I carried her all the way home
And after I introduced her back with her flock mates I returned to the cottage for a restorative cup of coffee and a custard tart.
It was only then , that I remembered Mary locked away in the hen house!

Code Black

Just watched two episodes
Absolutely dreadful.....".ER ON SPEED"
Bring back George Clooney, the lesbian consultant and that pouting black nurse Haleh Adams
I have never seen so much rubbish in my life
Marcia Gay Harden as the jaded and caring lead doctor was very impressive though